


Gold in the Hole

by RoyaltyLaine



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Golf, Awkward Boners, Beware, Coach/Player Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Snark, sexual golf puns lie in this story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-10-27 04:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10801476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyaltyLaine/pseuds/RoyaltyLaine
Summary: I'm terrible at summaries, so here goes nothing:Belle is the stand-in for an injured teammate. Gold is unhappy with her amateur golfing abilities and that he has to endure her strutting around the putting green in the low-cut skirt of her golf uniform.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one of my comedy romances finessed by yours truly. So while looking through the tags, I noticed that there were no Golf!rumbelle verses. So who else can change that fact but me lol (since I actually play golf) Sorry for the ridiculous title, and if you have an idea for a new one, let me know in the comments.  
> -RL

Just breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Knees slightly bent. Shoulders aligned with feet. Back straight. Elbows locked, and don't forget to follow through. She took a look down the fairway, then back down at the small white golf ball on the tee. She squeezed the grip tight and lifts up her club, pulling it back into the air and beyond her head. She closed her eyes and swung with a powerful strike.

_Whoosh!_

Belle felt good about this swing and knew that she sent her ball soaring. She reopened her eyes and stood on her tippy toes in her golf cleats searching the blue skies for her aerial ball, using her hand as a visor to shield her eyes from the sun. Where was that damn ball?

"You won't find it up there, Ms. French." That familiar chauvinistic voice of her coach said, mocking her contemptuously. "Look down."

She did, and there was her golf ball, still sitting neatly on its tee, mocking her just as much as her instructor did. She groaned in frustration and assumed her stance again. Breathe, knees bent, shoulder squared, back straight, elbows locked, and swing.

 _Crunch_ was the sound she heard this time as her nine wood dug up a patch of earth, sending the sod flying in the air at least 10 feet away from where she stood on the tee box.

"Keep digging Ms. French." He said. "You just may dig a grave big enough for the whole team when our opponents bury us at district next week."

He was such an arrogant asshole. Why did Belle ever agree to this? Yeah, at the time it was to help out her friend Ruby who'd injured her leg snowboarding, but to put up with this insensitive prick was becoming too much for her to bare. Belle took another hard swing at the ball, slicing through the air, missing the ball and the ground entirely. Internally cursing the ball, Belle swung hard again. Over and over, without using her proper golf technique and each time, she missed the ball, digging large divots in the grassy tee box with each stroke of her club.

His hand attached itself around the shaft of her club, stopping her in mid swing. "What on earth do you think you're doing? This isn't softball Ms. French, and you will show this course some respect."

"How about showing me some respect too?" She snapped in frustration, snatching her driver from his hand. "How about instead of just standing there judging me, you could try teaching me."

"I've taught you everything, and you insist on forgetting the most important step." He shouted back at her. " Every stroke, you close your eyes like the club magically knows where you want it to go. Watch the damn ball."

"Why can't you see that I'm trying!"

"Try harder!"

Belle threw the club to the ground and folded her arms across her chest. She had enough of his impatient attitude towards her. She didn't mind helping her friend, but not at the cost of being ridiculed. Ruby's coach was impossible. Belle has never met a man so challenging and down right rude in her life.

Gold sighed. Maybe he was a bit too overbearing. Belle didn't have to be here picking up Ruby's slack, and in fact, he and the team needed her. It was the pressure getting to him. It was the district championship, and the stakes were high. Winning this tournament could place them in State, then next Regionals. The Lady Golfers of Storybrooke University have never been this close to the taste of victory before, but his stress was no excuse for picking on Ruby's stand-in. No matter how bad she was at golf, or how good she looked in her practice uniform.

He often lost his train of thought while watching her take practice swings. Her form was horrible, but her body was flawless. The little tank top of her uniform bared her flat stomach and curvy hips. The high hem of the ruffled skirt showed off her toned thighs and legs, and he frequently had to pray for calm weather that was absent of strong winds. Her first day of practice was perfect for training in gusty conditions, but Belle wasn't as familiar with her outfit like the other girls were, and didn't get the memo to wear undershorts beneath her skirt. Gold got an eyeful of her blue lacy panties with every passing breeze, and every time he was forced to walk off his boner instead of riding in the golf cart with the rest of the team. The next day, Gold made a request to his assistant coach about changing the uniform's design to shorts as a better alternative, but Coach Mills declined it stating that the girls would be more comfortable in free-flowing skirts. Now he was forced to watch Belle prance up and down the fairway in her little attire.

These extra private lessons were hard on him too. Perhaps that was another reason why he was so short- tempered with her. Gold's snide remarks were his last line of defense to keep his feelings hidden from her. But it wasn't her fault that she had beautiful blue eyes, smooth creamy skin, and a perfect body that drove him insane. Besides, his rude comments weren't helping her golfing skills. If Belle was ever going to learn how to play golf, he had to take control of her training.

"Pick up the club Ms. French." He told her, subsiding his annoyance. "I'm sorry for being brash with you."

"Fine." She said, bending over to retrieve her club, and Gold involuntarily got another ample eyeful of her panties. "But if you yell at me one more time, I'm leaving."

"I won't. No more shouting." He promised. "Besides I think I see what the problem is."

"What is it?"

"I think you require a more hands-on demonstration." He said, taking a step closer to her. "Take your stance."

Belle rolled her eyes as she turned and faced the little ball, keeping it square between her feet, and her feet aligned with her shoulders. Unexpectedly, her Coach took the same stance behind her, placing his arm around her stomach, and merging his body against hers.

"Breathe Ms. French." He told her, demonstrating proper breathing by taking a deep breath. His chest rose and fell against her back, urging her to adjust her breathing to his. Belle took in a breath and exhaled, relaxing her mind and easing the tension in her body.

"Good, now open your legs a little wider. Even spacing with the ball." He said, softly shifting his knee between hers and pushing them outwards.

The soft tone of his voice compelled her to listen, and his arm around her waist wasn't helping her either. It never occurred to Belle that a gentler man resided in him. She wished he brought this persona out more often. Her coach wasn't a bad looking guy either, and now as he held her close, she was beginning to see just how handsome he was. Helplessly trying to stay focused, she did what he advised and spaced her legs evenly, forming a box-like square around the ball below on the tee.

"Bend your knees more." he whispered in her ear.

As she did what he instructed, her body pressed closer to his, leaving not even an inch of space between their bodies. Her backside leveled with his crotch, and Belle stiffened up again while being so close to him. She closed her eyes and felt almost breathless as her instructor placed his hands on hers and together they simultaneously gripped the rubber handle of the club.

"Deep breaths Ms. French," He reminded her, caressing his thumb over her gloved hands that were wrapped securely around the handle of her driver.

"Loosen your grip, don't clutch it so tight. Let your back and hips do all the work for you," Gold murmured the instructions in her ear. "Keep your head down and eyes on the ball. Don't think too hard about where you want the ball to go. Just focus on your technique."

"Okay," she said staring at the ball, keeping her breathing steady, and matching the same rhythm as her coach's. She probably should say something to him about standing so close to her, but something in her didn't want to ruin this perfect moment.

"Are you ready to swing?" He asked.

Belle nodded, and together they pulled the club backwards into the air and over their shoulders. Belle could feel his breath on her neck, and it sent chills down her spine, placing a need that pooled in her lower stomach. While her club was in the air, in the backstroke position, his hand left her grip and trailed down her wrist and arm to her elbow. He tucked it in, locking her elbow in place before continuing to pad his hand down her side to her waist.

"Keep all your movement right here. Control your swing with your hips," Belle's instructor said with his hand touching her waist. "They're very bountiful, so I know you can handle it."

Belle bit her lip. For the past week, all her new coach has ever done was patronized her. Where was this man hiding? She was quickly losing her concentration while his hips hugged against hers. His hand softly held on to her waist to indicate where all her power laid. She sunk deeper into him, and his body's posture was the only thing keeping her upright.

"Very good Ms. French." Gold said. He was just as turned on by this lesson as she was.

Her little waist was nuzzled in his hand as he ran it over her curves and down her hips. He could smell the lavender of her shampoo in her hair as a cool breeze swept through the trees. He would give anything just to kiss her neck and shoulders, but he doubted she would appreciate that after how he treated her for the past week. So he was left to ignore the strong desires to remove the club from her hands and lead her back to the clubhouse for a more in-depth lesson on how to score a hole-in-one.

"What should I do next?" Her heavenly voice asked, sending more arousal to the region below his belt.

"Keep your eyes on the ball, and follow through." He said, placing his hand back on hers.

Belle followed the instructions he fed into her ear and kept all her strength in her back and hips, refusing the need to close her eyes and keeping them locked on the ball. They shifted together, slicing the club through the air until she heard a piercing cling. Belle followed through with her shot, keeping her perfect form with the club behind her head. Her eyes hadn't left the ground, and she noticed that the ball was gone. All that stood there was her solid blue tee.

"Look up."

Belle looks into the sky, searching the clouds for her ball. "Where, I don't see it."

"There." He said, letting go of her so he could point to the sky, but Belle couldn't see the ball he was aiming to. She followed his hand as it lowered until she heard a distinct plopping sound that signaled her ball's safe return to earth. "It's on the fairway."

"That's good right?" She asked, turning to her coach to see the very impressed expression and the astonishment he held in his eyes, but something else about him caught her attention.

"Indeed. It was perfect Ms. French. That was at least 200 yards." He said mesmerized by her shot and mentally calculating how much distance she'd got.

"Um- coach?"

"I've never seen a curve like that either," He said with an excited smile, still looking down the fairway at her ball. "Only the professionals can get distance like that."

"Coach there's-" she muttered as her cheeks turned flushed with color.

"If you keep this up Ms. French, the other teams won't stand a chance against you."

Belle giggled, and Gold finally stopped remarking about her shot and turned to her when he heard a muffled snicker and saw her laughing delightfully behind her hand.

"What's so funny?" He asked curiously.

"I think you may want to take care of that." She said, pointing to the center of his pants, still laughing and blushing. She supposed Mr. Gold was very excited, in more ways than one.

When Gold looked down to where she was gesturing to, he found his pants tented by his erection. He quickly shielded his lower body from Belle with his shirt as deep wrinkles set into his forehead from embarrassment.

"Get in the golf cart and go find your ball Ms. French." he said, turning slightly, trying to dodge her eye contact.

"You don't wanna ride with me?"

"No, I much rather walk today." He said, declining her offer and choosing the wise decision not to ride down the fairway with her so he could walk off his boner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know in the comments if you have an idea for a title.  
> [Here's the Tumblr](http://poca-staks.tumblr.com/)  
> -RL


	2. Chapter 2

He could smell the aroma of sweet sticky pollen in the air as a warm spring breeze swept over her skin, fanning her hair out and delicately placing it on her shoulder as she took her practice shot. Her form on the follow through was perfect and statuesque, like the little golden figure that sat on top of a first place trophy. After getting the hang of watching her ball, Belle could spot it no matter how high she sent it soaring. It returned from the atmosphere and landed with the rest of the golf balls on the driving range used for practice. She smiled and lowered her club when she heard the cheers of her teammates and coach.

She thought after taking a few practice shots the butterflies would have left her stomach, but instead, they became more intense. The girls from the other teams were good. They looked like they'd been playing golf since the moment they could walk. Their clubs were shiny and polished like they've never been used before, which made Belle wonder how they kept them looking so new.

A voice came over the loudspeaker from the clubhouse and told everyone that tee-offs would be starting soon. After a quick pep talk and wishing everyone good luck, Gold's team went their separate ways. Regina took each girl to their designated hole to join their heat. Since Belle had proven to be the best golfer on her team, Gold placed her in the first heat, so that she would compete against the top player of each team.

Her nervousness churned in her stomach when Belle saw the crowd of people huddle around the tee box to watch the group of girls take their first shot. Gold pulled her behind a tree and away from the audience so that he could talk to her privately.

"Everything alright Belle?" Gold asked. "You seem troubled."

"Fine coach." She sighed. "There's just a lot of people watching."

"The top players will always have the most spectators."

"And you're sure that I'm good enough to be in this heat. I was watching a few of them practice, and the blonde is really good."

"Her name is Emma, and she's your biggest competition," Gold explained. "But if you remember your technique and, most importantly to watch the ball, she won't be a problem for you." He could tell his pep talk wasn't giving her much incentive. "I purchased you something for your first tournament."

He left her alone for a moment and quickly headed to his golf cart before returning to the tree. He placed a black and blue leather golf bag in front of her. All the wedges were new and still had the plastic wrapping around the head of the clubs. In large cursive writing down the side of the bag, it said _Taylor Made_ , and under that, was her name stitched in blue threading.

"It's beautiful, but-"

"No, I want you to have it. It's a thank you from the team and me for helping us.

Belle tried on the bag and smiled. "It fits perfectly, and it's not too heavy. Thank you, but you didn't have to."

"I wanted to. Win or lose. I'm just glad to have you on my team."

"Well then," She said, leaning back against the tree suggestively. "How about a kiss for good luck?"

There were so many other things running through his mind than just giving her an innocent kiss. Sexual desires that would cost his team the tournament and probably his job if anyone were to see them. Her little golf outfit was even shorter than her practice uniform, making it hard for Gold to focus on anything that didn't have something to do with Belle. The neckline plunged low, revealing her cleavage and even some of her bra. He had a half of mind to throw her against the tree and kiss her until she became weak. Starting from her neck and slowly kiss his way down to her panties before removing them and tossing them aside to taste the treasures hidden between her thighs. His cock was getting hard just thinking about all the reckless things they could do while behind this tree.

"I'll give you more than a kiss if you win." Gold told her casually without giving much thought to what he'd said.

"Oh really?" Belle asked, biting her bottom lip and looking at the center of his pants. "And what would that be?"

Gold looks down and finds his boner protruding in his pants. Without haste, he covers his erection with his hands."Uh- laps and m-more training exercises." He answered quickly, trying to correct his words along with the problem in his trousers. It was neither the time or place for that. It was the district championship, and he needed to be her coach, not someone trying to court her. "You still have much more to learn about golf Miss French."

"Oh, I'm sure I do," She smiled.

"I'm glad you understand." He said uncomfortably without looking at her, desperately trying to find an escape route. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I better make sure your teammates have enough score sheets."

"Are you sure I can't help you with that?" Belle asked, placing her hand on his belt buckle. "It wouldn't take long. We could go back to the clubhouse-"

"No." He replied sharply. The last thing he needed was her feeding more arousal to his cock and making things more awkward between them. "That won't be necessary. Just go out there and perform your best, Miss French."

Belle gave him a small shrug before leaving the tree to join the rest of her group. Gold sighed. He could have practically bashed his head against the tree for becoming hard again while in front of her. Belle was great, but he was her coach and consorting with his newest student wasn't a good idea during a tournament as big as this one. No matter how bad he wanted to.

After walking off his boner and checking on the rest of his team, it was getting close to Belle's tee-off, and her group was up first. He watched her stretch out her muscles, bending in a lunge and making her skirt rise a little in the process. Gold couldn't help but look at her tone legs. She looked beautiful in her athletic attire, and thankfully she wore undershorts this time. But unfortunately for him, the images of her panties from their previous practice sessions were engraved into his mind, so it didn't take much to imagine what she was wearing underneath those shorts.

After her stretches and putting on her gloves, Belle looked into the audience to find her coach. Gold flashed her a smile and an assuring nod that reminded her that she could do this. The other girls in her heat were Ashley Boyd, who's mother coached her and her sisters, Guinevere from Camelot University, they're team were no competition thanks to their drunken coach, Arthur. And last but not least, Emma Swan. She was probably the best golfer here today. Belle had her work cut out for her, Emma had been conditioned for golf ever since she could hold a club in her hand. Gold's never seen her mess up a shot, or hit her ball into a sand trap or water hazard. She could curve a ball precisely to avoid trees and still manage to land her shot on the green. The only thing worse than Emma's amazing golfing abilities was her coach. Killian Jones was an arrogant and obnoxious asshole. So obsessively absorbed in Emma's talents, the ones he didn't help her get, that he flaunted her in front of the other teams and gloated relentlessly about her. Gold didn't know whether it was an intimidation technique or if Killian enjoyed making himself look like an ass. Either way, Gold wouldn't let his tactics get to him, not when he had his secret weapon going up against Killian's best player.

"Gold, what a surprise," Killian said. "I thought you wouldn't be dumb enough to show your face at district without your star player Ruby. Though, even Ruby couldn't hold a candle to my Emma."

"You'll be biting that spiteful tongue of yours very soon. Ruby's stand-in is far better than I could ever hope for."

"And which one is she?" Killian asked. "I'm sure Emma would love to wipe the floor with her too."

Gold pointed to the girl with beautiful blue eyes, and long auburn hair pulled into a ponytail. "Let's call her my secret weapon."

"And where did you find this one?" Killian asked, looking for something else degrading to say. "Wait let me guess. She's the cashier at an Academy Sports and Outdoors."

Killian was the only one laughing at his stupid, tacky jape.

"Even if that were possible, she'd still need to be a student at SBU. You know, like your Emma. She's been a student at Seven Seas University for what- 8 years now?" Gold said with a self- satisfying smirk, and Killian became suspiciously quiet. "A shame really. I wonder what, or who, is holding her back from the Pros?"

"Good one, but look at your girl Gold. Do you really expect me to believe that she's any good?" Killian asked. "The golf club is almost taller than her. Can she even swing the damn thing?"

"I don't have to prove anything to you." Gold shrugged. "Because soon, you will find out for yourself just how good my little secret weapon is."

Belle and the other three girls stood on the tee box as the course official explain how they would be choosing the order they would tee-off in. He held up four straws, each shorter than the last one. The longest would go first, and the shortest would tee-off last. The girls each pulled straws and closed their hand around it. Once the last girl had her straw, the official told the girls to open their hands and reveal their order. Belle pulled the shortest.

"Last place." Killian chuckled. "I'm sure you're used to that sight by now Gold."

Gold grumbled some swear words under his breath about Killian, trying not to let his patronizing words get under his skin. He needed to be there for his players, it was Belle's first tournament, and he knew she was nervous, so he wanted to keep a calm composure in case she needed him.

The official called Emma, who pulled the longest straw, to tee-off first. She plugged her tee into the ground before placing her white ball on top. The crowd fell silent, not even the birds that were chirping in the trees made a sound as Emma took her stance. With her nine wood, she sent her ball flying down the fairway, resting next to the green.

"That a girl Emma!" Killian shouted obnoxiously. The crowd was in an uproar with clapping and cheering. Emma's shot was impressive and she would without a doubt par if she putted perfectly. Gold clapped too. He had nothing against her, Emma was a fantastic golfer. It was just her coach he couldn't stand.

The other girls took their shots, and none were as imposing as Emma's, but the crowd still clapped out of respect to the player. Next up was Belle. Gold could hear the quiet whispers of the people doubting Belle's abilities as they wondered who she was and where was Gold's star player, Ruby. He ignored them and focused his attention solely on Belle.

She plunged her tee into the soft sod and placed her light blue ball on top of it. Belle took her stance and took in a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth. Feet squared with shoulders. Elbows locked and knees bent. As she focused on her technique, Belle felt her coach's arms wrap themselves around her waist. They pulled her into his embrace with a soft and comforting touch that eased her nervousness and sent the tension of the judging eyes around her fleeing from her mind. The only thoughts that remained were the ones of him. He nuzzled his body flushed against hers, tucking her backside into his lower region and ran his hand down her waist and over her hips.

"Spread your legs more, and keep all your power in your hips." He whispered softly in her ear. She obeyed his voice in her head and opened her legs wider, then loosened her grip on the club. "Are you ready to swing?" Belle took one more deep breath and nodded yes. She pulled her club back and sliced it through the air in one swift stroke. _Cling._

"Fire in the holeeee!" Someone in the crowd yelled as Belle's ball flew over the fairway, passing both Ashley and Guinevere's ball.

Her ball was soaring through the air like a projectile, faster and higher than some of the pro golfers Gold had seen. When it finally descended back to earth, it was on the green next to the hole. Her shot even passed Emma's ball that sat on the edge of the green.

For a second everyone was in silence, their faces mixed with both shock and disbelief. Belle stayed in her follow through pose for a moment. Hips extended forward with a perfect twist in her waist and the club stretched behind her head. If there were a golf version of a pin-up girl, Belle would be its star model. She looked so amazing in her backstroke form that Gold started clapping, not for her shot, but for how much arousal it gave him to see her in this position. Seconds later, everyone else joined in with Gold's cheering, including the competition in her heat who shook Belle's hand congratulatorily. However, Killian was not cheering or clapping. He stood there with a sour expression and balled fists after realizing that someone finally beat his valuable star player in tee-off distance.

"Like I said. My secret weapon." Gold told him, smirking and walking off in the direction of Belle.

She jumped into his arms excitedly, and Gold hugged her tightly. "How did I do?"

"Your shot was that of perfection Miss French." he smiled. "I hope it isn't too late for me to take you up on that offer of a kiss."

"Afraid so coach, the likelihood of me winning is far too high for a good luck kiss," she said. "Your gonna have to sweeten the deal now."

"I could add another 50 laps to your training regimen, or I could maybe take you out to dinner."

Belle giggled. "Dinner sounds lovely. We can make it a full course. Though, I'm not sure if you can keep up with me in 18 holes."

He pulls her closer. "I'm willing to try."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for the lovely comments on the last chapter.  
> [Here's the Tumblr](http://poca-staks.tumblr.com/)  
> -RL


End file.
